


Carpe Noctem

by Sashaya



Category: Dying Light (Video Game)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Consensual Sex, Domestic, First Time, Hand Jobs, M/M, Out of Character, Shameless Smut, Shower Sex, Suicidal Thoughts, briefly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:47:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23295004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sashaya/pseuds/Sashaya
Summary: Give yourself a minute to breathe. Maybe a night,” a smile tugs at his lips and he doesn’t fight it.“A night?” Kyle repeats, his bright, hungry eyes falling to Harris’ mouth.
Relationships: Harris Brecken/Kyle Crane
Comments: 10
Kudos: 40





	Carpe Noctem

**Author's Note:**

> _Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters._
> 
> Warning: Unbeta'ed work. I'm new to the smut writing. 
> 
> If you want to say hi!, pop in at [SharkTofu](https://sharktofu.tumblr.com/).

The railing under his hands is cold and smooth. The sun is painting the sky with oranges and pinks, and the shadows under the balcony looks inviting...

“If you’re plannin’ on jumpin’, I have a grapplin’ hook and zero fear,” comes a smooth voice from behind him. 

“Crane,” Brecken startles and quickly moves inside, roughly pushing Crane with him. 

At least he tries, because Crane seems unmovable, a wall of muscles and annoying stubbornness set in the sharp angles of his cheekbones. 

“What’re you thinkin’ ‘bout?” Kyle smirks, but his eyes stay cold and alert. There are shadows under them, along with dirt and something that could be brain matter. 

What did he live through to get back from again? 

_ No, don’t think about it.  _

“We’re low on Antizin,” he says and crosses his arms. It’s instinctual, the need to put some distance between them. Especially when Crane is too… tired? bored? something to pretend to be less like a predator.

“When are we not?”

It’s the truth, somehow Crane rarely lies, but it hits Brecken like a well-aimed punch. 

“Sorry,” the cold  killer before him melts and only Kyle is left. Weary and bone-tired, dirty and hopeful. “I can swing by Rais and try to negotiate some?”

“No,” his hand closes around Kyle’s left wrist. “We’ll find some.”

“For how long? And how much?” he replies bitterly, but at least doesn’t pull away. “If I  _ can’t _ talk to Rais, I can at least scavenge some more meds.”

_ What’s a few more murders?  _ hangs quietly between them. 

Harris doesn’t hold it against him, he’s not that much of a hypocrite. It makes him uneasy and curious, what Kyle did  _ before _ to be so desensitized.

_ Better not to ask.  _

“Not now. Give yourself a minute to breathe. Maybe a night,” a smile tugs at his lips and he doesn’t fight it. 

“A night?” Kyle repeats, his bright, hungry eyes falling to Harris’ mouth. 

He hesitates. 

He’s so painfully aware of the skin under his fingers, it burns. 

He burns through the bruising kiss that leaves him breathless. Through the wandering hands, mapping all the soft spots under his shirt. 

He burns as they stumble inside and presses Kyle roughly against the wall, scrapes his teeth against the scars and runs his tongue in mock apology. 

He burns, when their clothes end up messily on the floor and Kyle whines needily into his mouth. 

He burns as they move to the shower, steam raising through the water and the heat of their bodies pressed together. 

It’s surprisingly easy to fall on his knees before Kyle, to run his hands over the muscled calves. He reaches higher, pulling soft moans as he caresses the broad thighs, and finally stops around his cock, already hard and begging for attention. 

He wants to tease, to drag it over and over again, but he also wants his reward and never was extremely patient. 

Kyle’s knees buckle, when Harris licks the tip of his cock and then swallows him whole. He holds onto the shower wall, tugs on Harris’ hair.

“Fuck!” he lets out, when his cock hits the back of Brecken’s throat. The man gags for a bit and pulls away, leaving just the tip inside. He repeats the motion a few times, slow and meticulous, running a clever tongue under his cock and humming around the tip. 

Harris feels the muscles under his hands tighten and a sharp pain as Kyle pulls at his hair. He doesn’t pull away in time and ends up involuntary swallowing some of Kyle’s seed. Some lands on his face, streaks of white painting his cheeks and mouth. 

“Fuck,” Crane whispers, when he gets back his breath and leans down to kiss Brecken. He bites his already red and swollen lips, wipes the cum away with his thumb. “Let me…”

He pulls Harris to his feet and backs him away in the corner. Kyle wraps a rough hand around his cock and sets a leisurely pace. Brecken moans into his skin, while Kyle leaves open-mouth kisses on his cheekbones and gently bites his ear. 

The Tower’s leader clings to him, begs for more and harder, and quicker. He rakes his fingernails through the skin on Kyle’s back, leaves handprint bruises on his shoulder and hip. 

He cums with a shout, Kyle’s name sounding almost holy in his ecstasy. 

They stay together, kissing lazily, unhurried and content in the aftermath of their impulsive decision. 

“We’ve wasted lots of water,” Kyle whispers, mouthing along Harris’ collarbone and sucking a hickey on his burning skin. 

“Yeah,” Harris’ voice is as soft as his touch. “Next time let’s try the bed.”

“Whatever you want.”

“Is that so?” Harris’ smile is delicious and so, so devilish. “So you’d have nothing against me riding you to exhaustion?”

Suddenly Crane pushes him hard against the tiles, presses them together so there’s barely a space for air and latches onto his neck, bites and licks, coaxing another hickey. 

“Certainly nothing  _ against _ you.”

Harris’ breath hitches and he laughs, melts into the other man with an amount of trust they both deliberately don’t think about. 

“You’re terrible,” he says and Crane hums in agreement, too busy making Brecken his own masterpiece to reply. 

A part of him wants to continue, make good on his promise, burn them in passion and life. Another part sees the dark circles under Kyle’s eyes, the sluggishness to his movement and feels his own deep-seated fatigue. 

They’ll have time for more. They’re both too greedy to let this go easily. 

“Come on, you big lug,” he gently pushes Crane away and the man goes freely, a pout adoring his handsome face. “We can still catch some shut-eye.”

Crane gets out without a word and hands him a towel, that Harris had scavenged so long ago. 

He ignores the water dripping from his body and walks into the living room in the naked glory, searching for his clothes. Harris watches him move, ethereal and dangerous in the darkness, barely illuminated by the faraway lights. 

“Don’t go.”

Kyle’s brilliant brown eyes pierce through him, searching. Whatever he finds is enough to let go of his shirt and quietly move to the adjusted room. 

Brecken follows him, blazing thoughts of this man in his bed quickening his steps. 

He finds him about to get on the mattress and he lets the towel fly. 

It lands on Kyle’s head, who panics for a millisecond and then looks at Harris like he grew another head. 

“You’re not getting my bed wet,” he orders, fighting a laugh that tries to bubble out of his chest. He smacks Crane’s ass, leaving a wonderfully red print on the cheek, and gets under the covers. 

“Come on, big guy,” he coos. “I’m sure you know what a towel is for.”

Crane only shakes his head at him, smiling and quickly drying himself. He flings the cloth somewhere behind and Brecken probably should scold him for leaving a mess, but then a strong body is beside him and pressing close. His breath quickens for a moment, desire sizzling under his skin.

Kyle plasters himself against his back and sneaks an arm around his abdomen, and suddenly Harris feels safe and so utterly exhausted. He doesn’t fight and simply closes his eyes. 

He hears Kyle say something as he falls asleep, but he cannot decipher the words. As sleep takes him, he feels hot breath on his neck and certainly not  _ I’m sorry _ mouthed against his skin. 

_ Right?  _

**Author's Note:**

> Work created for Dżoda, who bullied me into writing smut. Woe is me!


End file.
